


Reunion

by SenorLemur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Prisoner of Azkaban, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenorLemur/pseuds/SenorLemur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Without warning, he gripped Sirius's shirt in both hands and began to walk backward, forcing the other to follow. Sirius could only obey, matching Remus stride for stride until they were stopped by the edge of the old bed. The latter sank down slowly on to the brink of the mattress, hands still clutching the former's undershirt, eye contact still unbroken. "</p><p>Remus and Sirius finally reunite after  the events of Prisoner of Azkaban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

The late July air in London was stuffy and breezeless even in the dead of night. It was exactly 3:23 on a Monday morning when Remus Lupin locked the door to The Silent Siren and apparated back to his homely, one-room flat flour blocks away on the same street. He sighed, lighting the room and refreshing the cooling charm with a wave of his wand as he fetched himself a glass of water and sat down on the cheap bed opposite the flat's door. It had been three weeks since his resignation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Three weeks since Sirius Black's innocence and Peter Pettigrew's betrayal had been revealed to him. 

After Sirius's flight and his resignation from Hogwarts, Remus had gone back to London in search of new work. It hadn't been easy; new legislation by the Ministry of Magic required him to disclose his lycanthrope status to any potential employer, and precious few witches and wizards were willing to hire a werewolf. Seeking Muggle employment had been just as fruitless- in addition to his unfamiliarity with Muggle technology, Remus had yet to find a boss who would tolerate him calling in sick once a month without being able to explain the nature of his illness. He had finally found a place as a barman at The Silent Siren, a rather sleazy pub in Knockturn Alley. As detestable as he found being associated with those who frequented and kept shop in Knockturn, he had been desperate for a job, and the employers there were often more tolerant of a condition so closely tied to the Dark Arts in peoples' minds.

Remus set the now-empty glass on the small bedside table and began changing out of his work clothes. Pulling on a pair of ragged pyjama bottoms, his eyes flickered over a framed photograph also sitting on the bedside table. The faded picture was of a much younger Sirius, about nineteen or twenty years old; the diminutive, black-and-white face was watching Remus undress and dress with a licentious expression.

"Bloody pervert," said Remus fondly as he extinguished the lights and slumped exhaustedly into his bed. It had only been a few days since the last full moon, and he still felt quite ill. Staring at the dark ceiling, Remus listened vaguely to the creaks and shudders of the apartment building around him. His thoughts drifted, as they had for the past twenty-one days, to Sirius. 

He had not heard from Sirius since the latter's escape from Hogwarts. While Remus understood that the other man had a very good reason for staying as quiet as possible, a small part of him was still a bit hurt that Sirius had made no attempt to contact him. 

Before Sirius had been framed and sent to Azkaban, he and Remus had lived together as quite a bit more than simple flatmates. They had never felt the need to broadcast it, but they had never denied that they had loved each other truly, madly, and deeply since their last years at school. At the time of Sirius's conviction, Remus had been numb with shock and, disgusted at himself for having loved someone capable of committing such a foul crime, had moved on as best he could. However, now that Sirius had been vindicated....Remus slid underneath the thin blankets on the bed and wondered for the thousandth time if Sirius still reciprocated his feelings after almost thirteen years. 

As the city around him began to groggily rouse itself, Remus slept soundly.

He dreamt that he was in wolf-form, locked in a barred cell in Azkaban. He hurled himself against the bars again and again; he knew the dementors could not deter him, there was only rage and pain and hunger in the wolf. The bars turned to ice and cracked, then shattered, before him- his wolf-self ran through a door across from his cell and....He was in the Hogwarts that had existed more than fifteen years ago, a sixteen-year-old boy standing in an empty corridor. Someone was walking towards him; he realized that it was Harry, green eyes blazing unnaturally bright. As Harry walked closer, he turned into James, who told Remus that Sirius was waiting for them....They were now in the Shrieking Shack, which was furnished like a classroom. Sirius was there, also sixteen, but dressed in his filthy Azkaban rags; he stalked up to Remus and pressed himself against the other boy's body, kissing and pawing at him. Remus protested weakly, saying that others were watching; he turned and saw that James had transformed into professor-aged Severus, who had begun rearranging the desks in the shack by hand, dragging them noisily across the floor and ignoring Sirius and Remus completely....He turned back to Sirius, suddenly not caring that Snape was there, and began returning his kisses with fervor...but the sound of Snape's redecorating was so annoying. The scraping and scratching of the desks across the floor grew louder and louder....

Remus was pulled out of sleep reluctantly, but sat bolt upright when he realized that there were indeed insistent scratching and scraping noises coming from the opposite side of the apartment door. 

"Hello? Who is it?" he asked cautiously, picking up his wand and walking slowly towards the door.  
The scratching quieted and something that sounded like a muffled whine was the only response that came through from the other side.

 _Oh God, it couldn't be. It's broad daylight,_ thought Remus, his heart rocketing into his throat. _It couldn't be him...please let it be him._ He gingerly took the doorknob and slowly opened the battered apartment door.

It was half past noon, and the sunlight slanting in through the building's grubby windows fell upon a large, tar-black dog sitting alone in the hall. The dog was wagging its tail furiously and smiling a doggy smile. 

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but any words he was about to utter had escaped him. He backed further inside the flat as the dog trotted into the room, paused, and morphed seamlessly into a man.

Sirius Black closed the door behind him. He was still grim and hollow-cheeked, his long hair still dull and unkempt, and his clothing still in grimy tatters, but his eyes had lost the look of enraged despair they had held, and he did not seem quite so emaciated and stringy as he had three weeks ago. He was looking at Remus hungrily in a way that had nothing to do with food. 

"Sirius- I...you-" Remus stammered. He could feel himself getting hard already.

Sirius strode toward the other man until their noses were nearly touching. He smiled. "Don't talk," was all he whispered before covering Remus's mouth with his own. 

Joy, worry, relief, and overpowering lust flooded through his body all at once. Sirius's arms were crushing them together and his mouth was warm, tongue pleasurably intrusive. Remus discarded any last vestiges of questions or responsible thoughts as he felt the other's erection pressing against the front of his pyjama bottoms; his hands snaked up Sirius's front, finding and unfastening the clasp on the threadbare prison robe and roughly caressing the peaks of the nipples that stood apparent through a thin undershirt.

Their kiss was broken only when the need for air became too strong to ignore. They stared at each other for a moment- Sirius looking into glossy, gold-brown eyes while Remus stared into dark charcoal-grey irises that were almost, but not quite, flat black. 

"Missed you," interjected Sirius in a half-rakish, half-sheepish tone.

"I thought you said not to talk," Remus growled, still looking up at the slightly taller man through dark-blond eyelashes, hands resting on his lover's chest. 

Without warning, he gripped Sirius's shirt in both hands and began to walk backward, forcing the other to follow. Sirius could only obey, matching Remus stride for stride until they were stopped by the edge of the old bed. The latter sank down slowly on to the brink of the mattress, hands still clutching the former's undershirt, eye contact still unbroken. 

Sirius, still standing, hovered above Remus, gripping the other man's bare shoulders to keep his balance. He lifted his arms as he felt hands dragging his shirt upward, and as Remus finally tugged the garment off him, Sirius lunged forward, driving him further back on to the bed. He kissed Remus again. And again; Sirius shuddered with arousal as he felt the other's hand between his thighs, unbuttoning his faded trousers and reaching down to stroke his restless sex. 

The two men pressed closer, shifting slightly on the mattress to make themselves more comfortable. Sirius finished kicking off his trousers and roughly pushed Remus's back against the wall at the head of the bed. Remus bit back a hoarse moan as he felt Sirius's mouth leave his and make its way downward, past his ear and down his neck, moist tongue tracing the delicate veins showing beneath pale skin. He felt Sirius pause to nip at the seam where his neck met his shoulder and then continue on, mouth favoring a firm, tan-colored nipple in passing and gently mock-biting his flank and stomach. 

Dark eyes smouldering, Sirius looked back up at him. Holding Remus’s gaze, he gave a salacious smile as he pulled loose the drawstring to Remus's thin pyjama trousers with his teeth; tugging the trousers the rest of the way off, Sirius dropped his gaze and, turning his attention back downward, took his lover's cock into his mouth. He heard a soft, erotic gasp above him, and he felt Remus's fingers clutch the bed sheets beside them. Sirius teased him for a few moments, licking, kissing, sucking, before his lips retraced their path up Remus's body.

When he was again level with those dark golden eyes, Sirius looked at the other man with a slightly questioning expression, one eyebrow raised. Before he could say a word, Remus, his breathing shallow and feverish, silently inclined his head toward the small drawer in the bedside table. 

Sirius sat up and briefly searched the drawer until he had found what he was looking for- a small bottle half-full of clear, viscous liquid. When he turned back, Remus had moved again, and was lying on his stomach, head resting on arms propped up by a pillow, and watching him with a lustful, eager expression.

The lascivious smile returned to Sirius's face as he set the bottle down on the bed and leaned close to Remus, running a hand over the other's pale backside. "Turn back over," he murmured softly.

Remus began to shift onto his back. "What-"

Before he could finish his question, Sirius pounced; he pushed Remus fully over, pillow under his shoulders, and positioned himself aggressively over him. Still smiling, he bent his head low, their bodies now parallel, his lips nearly touching his lover's right ear.

"I want to see your face while I fuck you," he purred as he began to nudge the other's legs apart and feel around for the bottle he had left on the sheets. 

Remus gave a small shiver of pleasure at the words and turned to face Sirius, who had pulled himself upright, the bottle of lubricant by his knee. "Good God, Sirius," he said in an unconvincing, mock-reprimanding voice, "you're so crude-“ he cut off the end of his own sentence as he felt a finger begin to gently stroke the tight, puckered opening between his legs.

Sirius relished the reaction. He moaned at the prospect of what was to come as he slid a lubricated finger into Remus. The afternoon sun struck the sheen of sweat on the latter's body, highlighted the curve of every bone, the contour of every muscle. Another slick finger joined the first. Remus's eyes were closed, lips flushed and slightly parted. Sirius threw his head back for a moment as he touched himself, his free hand coating his stiff member with the slippery liquid. 

"Oh my God, Sirius...please...."

Remus was looking at him. Sirius saw the drops of clear fluid beading on the head of his lover's cock, signaling his impatience and anticipation. He suddenly wondered why it had seemed to take them so long to get to this point- he was going to go mad if he waited a second longer. Leaning forward, pushing Remus's legs back as he kissed him again, he slid inside.

"I love you."

Sirius was surprised that he didn't orgasm on the spot. Nearly thirteen years of celibacy finally broken- it was beyond incredible. In Azkaban, on nights when he felt lower than low, worse than dead, he would wonder if he had ever really had sex, it was so difficult to remember how it felt; then again, it had been difficult to remember how anything good had felt. Now he wondered how he could have ever forgotten it. Remus was so tight, and his skin was so warm- he pushed in deeper.

Their hips and bodies pressed together, and Sirius's dark, knotted hair surrounded their faces like a curtain. Remus could feel his lover moving in and out, whispering erotic nothings into his ear, brushing against the spot that produced bursts of agonizing pleasure with each thrust. His hands slipped on sweat-slicked skin, fingers sliding over the still-prominent contours of the other's backbone. He heard himself asking, pleading in a ragged sigh, for more.

Every thrust built upon the last. First, Sirius had savored an even pace, enjoying the pressure of the other man's body around him. Then he had heard Remus begging for more. 

If Sirius had thought that he couldn't get any more aroused, he was wrong; he drew himself upright and began to thrust in earnest- a rough, fast rhythm. He looked down at Remus- dark-blond hair now streaked with silver, damp from exertion, normally pale skin flushed, eyes shut in an expression of concentrated ecstasy. Low, gravelly moans escaped Sirius's throat as he watched his lover begin pleasuring himself in time with each thrust. He could hear Remus’s breathing become quicker and more uneven, every movement more urgent. They were both so close.

The orgasm tore through Sirius like a bolt of molten pleasure coursing through every nerve. He gave a stilted, incoherent shout as he spent himself inside Remus; a small part of him knew that he should at least try to be quieter in such an obviously cheap, thin-walled building, but a much larger part didn't care if the walls turned to paper and the room transported itself to the middle of Diagon Alley. Even as the tremors of orgasm began to fade in his body, his eyes closed to better revel in the moment, Sirius gave one last, blissful groan of satisfaction and pleasure as he felt and heard Remus climax underneath him. 

Remus came with a low, throaty moan, and he could feel warm droplets of semen spilling onto his chest and stomach. He opened his eyes and looked up at Sirius, who was gazing down at him with a sultry, voyeuristic expression, eyes half-closed. The other man withdrew himself slowly and sank down next to Remus, embracing him tightly from behind. 

"So, Remus. How are you?" said Sirius in a conversational tone, chin resting on the other's shoulder. He yawned.

A small smile twitched at the corner of the Remus's lips. "Considering the fact that I've been accosted, seduced, and fucked in broad daylight in my own home by a fugitive, alleged mass-murderer who can turn into a dog, I'm doing quite well, I think."

**Author's Note:**

> PWP I wrote awhile ago and reposting since joining AO3.


End file.
